Colorado
by Rosy52
Summary: For spring break her senior year, Rory is going on a Chilton trip along the Colorado River. Five days alone with the Chiltonite crowd, anything could happen. Trory... AU, explained within.
1. Authors Note

Authors Note

Ok, so here's the deal with this story. As I write this, it is on the brink of 2005. That means that it was four years ago that this debacle began. Four years ago, I went on a trip with my 8th grade class down the Colorado River in canoes. And, just as a side note, if anyone reading this is considering doing the same as a fun vacation, let me just tell you that I have more fond memories from that trip than I can count, but had I known then what I know now, I would never have gone. It was hot and tiring and endlessly miserable, but wonderful inspiration for a story.

The next year, I, a lowly freshman in high school, decided that it would make a perfect subject for a bit of Gilmore Girls fan fiction. I was excited, and jumped right into the fanficing lifestyle. Well, for a while. I'm afraid that the life of a freshman is tough. I got distracted, I got frustrated, and I'm afraid that I gave up. After a flurry of embarrassingly short chapters, I stopped writing my fic altogether, and expected it to disappear into the fandom's deep dark cellar of unfinished mediocre stories.

But that didn't happen. To my shock, people kept reading my teaser of a story, and they kept reviewing. My last update was in February of 2003, and I believe that was just a cosmetic update, yet up until June of 2004, I still got the periodic review. I have to say, I was shocked that there was any interest.

Now, I must admit that, between the time I abandoned Colorado and now, I began several other stories in different fandoms. However, they've all ended up the same way, left half done and really now definite intention to finish. But none have received the kind of encouragement that Colorado has, which is probably why I recently decided to give it another go, and see if I can't see one of my stories through.

So here goes, Colorado, again. For the returning reader, I'll warn you that I've done a bit of retouching to the original story, but the from the fifth chapter on it's all new material. That's the other change, chapters have been combined, because a chapter just isn't a chapter without a scrollbar present.

Also, some of you may have picked up on some slight discrepancies in geography, as well as the now complete and total departure from the actual show. For the purposes of this story, Chilton is in California, Rory is a senior and is currently single. She and Paris are not friends. Tristan never went to boot camp, but continued on at Chilton, a thorn in Rory's side. The events of Little Boy Lost never occurred. Basically, the relationships are as they were in season one, when I began this story.

And to all of you who reviewed and encouraged and nagged and begged for the survival of this story, I want to say thank you. You're the reason it's getting a second change.

And with that, on to the story…


	2. Chapter 1

_Disclaimer_: As much as I wish I did, I didn't make up the majority of the characters or the show, they all belong to WB and whoever else is involved. Only Jane and the guides are my own. No infringement intended, so don't sue me.

**Colorado**

Chapter 1

It was that time of the year again. Spring break. And while hundreds of teens all around America were packing their skimpiest swimsuits and hitting the road for such exotic locations as Cancun and Hawaii, Rory Gilmore sat in her room, carefully storing what could be called a small library in several layers of plastic bags. Having focused all her attention on the task at hand, she failed to hear the telltale thumping coming closer and closer to her room. Suddenly, the door burst open, an unexpected gust of wind sending all remaining bags flying. Books soon followed, along with a pile of clothes and several cans of bug spray. In the middle of this new disaster area was a very out of breath Lorelei, now struggling to escape from the dent she had made in her daughters bed.

"Mom…" Rory sighed wearily, and with a hint of exasperation. She had been trying to pack all day, and this would set her back at least another hour. However, she couldn't deny that she had been longing for a break. Besides, this seemed the perfect opportunity to ask her mother something that had been bothering her for quite a while. "What exactly made you decide to sign me up for this trip?" Chilton offered an extensive list of class trips for all vacations, but out of all these, her mother had taken the initiative of signing her up for a trip down the Colorado River…in canoes.

"Oh come on! It'll be great. Just picture it. Five days on a boat with the beautiful scenery, and campfires on the river bank with hot dogs and s'mores…" Lorelei rambled on excitedly.

"If I know Chilton, I'll probably be fillet minion and tiramisu…which actually sounds pretty good." Rory cut her off, before she got carried away. Usually a conversation like this would be fun, but it was late, and she had to be at Chilton by five a.m. if she didn't want to miss the bus.

"Goodnight mom." She said, indicating that it was time for Lorelei to leave. With that, she quietly turned on her CD player, switched off the light and curled up under her blanket. Rory had her qualms about this trip, not the least of which was the lack of friends accompanying her to the middle of nowhere and her strong dislike of physical exertion. Not to mention the mosquitoes. But she didn't want to worry about that tonight. Those were problems for tomorrow. The words of PJ Harvey drifted through her head, clearing it of any doubts, and she finally slipped into dreamless sleep.

At three am on the dot the following morning, a bleary eyed Rory rolled out of bed and struggled to shut off her blaring alarm. She then proceeded to drag herself to the kitchen, where a steaming pot of coffee beckoned to her. After several cups (she lost count after three) she returned to her room to get dressed. She already had her outfit laid out, a red tank top and bellbottom jeans, perfect for a six-hour bus ride. After several attempts, she finally managed to hoist her duffle bag over her shoulder and navigated it out to her car without destroying too many valuables in the process.

Lorelei was still asleep. She had worked late the previous night, and Rory had decided to let her sleep in, leaving a note to dispel any worries of kidnapping that her mother might conceive of. With that, she hopped in her car and headed to Chilton.

As she pulled up to her school, Rory saw a crowd of people standing on the curb outside the front gates. Everyone was clustered into groups, and the closer she got, the more people she recognized. Closest to her, standing near a street sign, were the ever present trio; Paris, Madeline, and Louise. Further back were Tristan and several of his friends, including Henry. Eying Tristan's group were some girls that Rory had definitely not expected to be there. The Puff Girls, Francie, Ivy, Dijur, Lily, Seline, Lana, Asia, Anna, and Lem. Finally, off in a corner by herself, with her nose buried in a book, was a girl Rory had seen around school a few times. She had been the one to join Rory at lunch after the Puff fiasco some time ago.

This seemed like as good a time as any to meet her, so Rory headed in the girls direction, duffle bag in tow.

As she approached, the girl lowered her book, a look of frustration flashing across her face. Rory was still a few feet away when she spun around to face her.

"Why won't you just-" she questioned sharply, only halting when she realized who was in front of her. "Oh, I'm sorry, I thought you were one of _them_." She said, looking pointedly at Tristan's group. "They've been bugging me all morning. Seems to give them some kind of weird kick. Again, sorry. I really didn't mean to bite your head off. I'm Jane, by the way. Jane Vishgard."

"I'm Rory. Gilmore. And don't worry about those guys, they're jerks, but they'll get bored sooner or later. I hope." She added wishfully, spotting several of the said jerks approaching them.

"Morning ladies. And what are you doing all the way over here? I'm sure you'd have a much better time with us." Tristan said, leering at the two completely uninterested girls. "Isn't that right Jon?" He added, looking over at one of his friends, who had come to see what was going on.

"Absolutely. I'm sure the five of us would be much more interesting then that little book your reading." He said, draping his arms around Rory's shoulders to deftly pluck the book from Jane's grasp.

Just as Jane was ready to spit back a particularly vicious response, Henry appeared, grabbing the book before Jon had a chance to stop him.

"Hey man, practicing pickup lines again? Cause I've got to say, that last one was really pretty terrible." Henry said lightly, handing Jane her book back and giving the girls an apologetic smile.

Tristan and Jon walked back to the rest of their group, muttering unintelligibly under their breaths. "Sorry for that. I'll try to keep them off your backs, but I can't promise anything." Henry said, shaking his head. Just then, Mr. Medina pulled up, followed by a Coach bus. As everyone struggled to once again shoulder their luggage, Henry turned to Rory and Jane. "Good luck." And with that, he picked up his bag and joined the throng of people vying for a seat on the bus.

Jane looked over to Rory, smiling sardonically. "This should be interesting."


	3. Chapter 2

_Disclaimer_: As much as I wish I did, I didn't make up the majority of the characters or the show, they all belong to WB and whoever else is involved. Only Jane and the guides are my own. No infringement intended, so don't sue me.

**Colorado**

Chapter 2

Once their luggage was safely stored on board, everyone squeezed into the waiting bus. It was tight, but after much arguing and minimal bloodshed, everyone was seated and they were on the road. Rory and Jane had, not surprisingly decided to sit together. Much to their disappointment, Tristan and Jon had claimed the seats directly behind them, and, taking pity on their situation, Henry sat across from them to keep the two in line. Paris, Madeline, and Louise sat a few rows behind, the better for Paris to spy on Tristan, and the Puffs had claimed the entire back of the bus. Tristan's other two friends had seated themselves between Paris' group and the Puffs, choosing flirting as their pastime of choice for the next few hours.

The first two hours of the ride were amazingly uneventful. Apparently, no one had taken the early to bed suggestion seriously, for within ten minutes, all but the driver were draped over each other in sleep. Waking, however, was not nearly as peaceful.

"Screeeeeeeeeeeeeech." The buses tires skidded to a sharp stop, sending practically all of the passengers spilling into the center aisle. Within moments the compartment was filled with the sounds of 19 disgruntled teenagers. Mutters of pain and weariness were interrupted by an earsplitting screech of disgust from the back of the bus; Seline had discovered a piece of gum caught in her hair. Overall, it made for a rude awakening.

Apparently, it was lunchtime. The bus was parked in front of a small shopping center in the middle of nowhere. All they could see was a McDonalds, a gas station, and a small convenience store. As everyone piled out of the bus, no one seemed to notice, or care, that two girls slept on. Rory and Jane had managed to wedge themselves into their row tightly enough to sleep right through the abrupt stop. In fact, they didn't wake up until almost half an hour later, shortly after they had left the rest stop. The bus happened upon an unusually nasty speed bump that jarred the bus just enough to wake Rory up.

"Mmm…breakfast." Rory murmured, smelling the familiar aroma of Egg McMuffin. As her eyes slowly wedged opened, they focused on the small brown bag on her lap. It took her a minute to realize that this was the source of the heavenly scent. Rory propped herself up, careful not to spill the contents of the bag, and, seeing an identical package on Jane's lap, lightly nudged her until she awoke.

"Jane, look, breakfast in bed." Rory whispered to her. Both girls greedily dug into their sacks, realizing just how hungry they were. But before she could take a bite, Rory realized that there was something written on one of her napkins.

Rory,

I thought you two might be hungry, so I picked you up a little something. Would have woken you, but you looked so peaceful. Have a nice nap, and enjoy your breakfast.

-T

Curious, Rory glanced behind her, but Tristan, earphones firmly in place, seemed thoroughly engrossed in his music and didn't return her gaze.

With a sigh, Rory turned back around, and smiling, took a big bite of her sandwich.

"Maybe this won't be so bad after all."

By 10 a.m., the bus had once again fallen silent, but not from weariness. The sun had come out in full force, causing a deadly greenhouse effect on the bus. This, combined with the fact that there was no air conditioner to speak of resulted in the unfortunate passengers dropping like flies.

The back of the bus became hazy with hairspray as the Puffs desperately attempted to save their precious coiffures. Paris, ever prepared, had packed a small electric fan, but most were forced to settle for more primitive methods, mostly folding up the itineraries they had been handed out as they left.

Rory and Jane had settled into companionable silence, enjoying the time they had to let their minds wander, simply trying to ignore the heat. Suddenly, a mass of dark brown curls appeared, startling them from their daze.

"Hey you two!" Madeline said with her usual pep. Obviously Paris had decided to share her fan with someone, because Madeline looked perfectly refreshed.

"How are you guys doing?"

"Actually, we're dying of heat. And yourself?" Jane said in a voice matching Madeline's in perkiness. Rory elbowed her subtly. She wasn't overly fond of Paris, or Louise for that matter, but Madeline was sweet, if not the brightest girl around. After several pleading looks, Jane finally dropped the mocking grin. Meanwhile, Madeline had quietly watched the silent conversation, oblivious to the insult she had just received.

When there was a lull in the glares and hand signals, Madeline jumped back into the conversation.

"Actually, I'm doing great. You should really ask Paris for her fan, its…" but, catching a glare from Paris, she decided to not finish that particular sentence.

"Anyway, what I actually came to ask you about were your partners."

"Our what?" the two girls asked simultaneously.

"You know, our partners. For the tents and the boats, I mean. We have to get in pairs, and we have to be with different people for each. I'm tent mates with Paris, and I would be boat mates with Louise, but she's already with Lem, and I'd rather not pair up with one of them," she said, indicating the back of the bus, "and all the guys are paired up, well, except for Tristan, but you know Paris would kill me, so I thought maybe I could be with one of you. I mean, I figured you two would be tent mates, but then if you haven't paired up for boats yet…" she trailed off suggestively, having finally run out of breath.

"I'm flattered to see you thought of us first." Jane said dryly before Rory could stop her.

"Well actually, Rory and I are going to be sharing a boat, but I'm sure Jane here would be glad to partner up with you."

All heads turned to Tristan, who had popped up behind Rory, and now was draped smugly over the back of her seat.

Before either girl had a chance to process what had just transpired, Madeline was back in her seat, grinning happily. The two turned accusingly toward Tristan.

"Why did you say that?" Rory asked angrily. "I never agreed to that!"

"I'm going to go tell her to find a new partner. No way am I spending five days in a boat with her." Jane said, starting to get up.

"No, don't. I mean, of everyone on this bus, she's probably the best you're going to find." Rory replied, trying to reason with her. She felt bad messing up Madeline's plans just because of what Tristan said. "And I can just pair up with one of the Barbie's."

"Sorry, but I'm afraid it's too late for that. Everyone's already paired up." Tristan said, the smirk never leaving his face. "Looks like you're stuck with me."

The rest of the ride was spent in silence. Shortly before they arrived, Mr. Medina had gone through and recorded everyone's partners, but seeing as Dugray came before Gilmore, Rory had no hope of changing anything.

Eventually, the bus pulled off the main highway onto a dirt road. They had finally reached the campground.


	4. Chapter 3

_Disclaimer_: As much as I wish I did, I didn't make up the majority of the characters or the show, they all belong to WB and whoever else is involved. Only Jane and the guides are my own. No infringement intended, so don't sue me.

**Colorado**

Chapter 3

It was stunning. After so many hours sitting in a bus, the group now stood before a scene right out of a painting. They were surrounded by a sea of white desert sand, dotted here and there with dark, gnarly trees and low, sprawling bushes. Behind them, a small hill gave way to a denser clump of trees, intertwined with whole stretches of wildflowers. Farther down, a wide path led to the banks of the river that flowed by calmly. Lined up a safe distance from the river's edge were twelve long, metal canoes and a pile of paddles.

By now, the bus driver had deposited all twenty duffle bags into a jumbled heap on the sand and was preparing to take off. Mr. Medina moved to the front of the crowd before anyone had a chance to stray. "Alright, everyone, before we do anything, there's going to be a mandatory…orientation, so to speak, right over there," he said, motioning to a cluster of trees on top of the hill that formed a canopy with enough shade to accommodate a small crowd. A distant figure leaned against one of the trees, most likely the guide. "So move it people. We have a lot to do today." On that note, the entire group began the trek to the top of the hill.

In her mind, Rory had pictured their guide as some thirty-year-old man who looked closer to fifty, having spent his whole life on the river. This might explain why, upon reaching the top of the hill, she, along with practically every other girl present, paused, mouths gaping. In front of them stood a man, no older then twenty, with dark brown hair, and eyes a girl could be lost for days in. He was tall and lean, and gave the impression of complete self-assurance. In a deep, intelligent voice, accompanied by an easy smile, he called down to the group, "Ok, lets get everyone up here so we can get started."

"Yes sir." Louise said, pushing her way to the front of the crowd. She was practically drooling.

When everyone had reached the plateau, and found somewhere to be, either sitting in one of the trees, on the ground, or simply standing, the man started talking again.

"Alright everyone. My name's Eric, and as most of you have probably guessed, I'm going to be your guide for the next five days. Your teacher informed me that you already got into groups, is that right?" Eric paused a moment, while everyone nodded. "Great, so if no one is an odd man out, we can-"

"Actually, I'm not in a boat group." said Asia. Rory glared at Tristan, who shrugged innocently and went back to talking with his friends.

"That's fine, you can be Pocahontas." Eric said quickly, wanting to move on. However, when he noticed that everyone, at least everyone who was listening, looked extremely confused, he decided to clarify. "That just means that each day you ride in one of the boats where supplies would normally go." Asia pouted at the idea of being equated to boxes of food, but was satisfied when she learned that it got her out of rowing.

"Moving on-" Eric started once again, but it was not to be.

"Uh, one more problem." This time it was Jon. "Ya see there are five of us guys, so the groups for tents came out a little…uneven." continued Mike.

"And none of us wanted to room with him, no offense Mr. Medina." Sam finished, looking over at his teacher sheepishly.

"Well, if you guys think you can fit, you can just all squeeze into one tent. I would offer a single, but unfortunately, our extra got messed up on our last trip, so…" Eric stopped talking. After they had gotten the gist of it, the three boys had gone back to their discussion.

"Okay then, anyone else before I continue?" When no one spoke, Eric finally moved on.

"First of all, I know you all got the speech and the hand outs, but I'm afraid I'm going to have to go over the rules once more. Then I'll give you the basic plan for the week, you guys will set up tents, and we'll finish with a crash course in canoeing. Sound good?"

There were a few mumble "Greats", which Eric took as a sign to move on.

"First of all, lets remember, we're in the great outdoors, there's no cleaning crew coming after we leave, so we have to keep it nice. That means no candy wrappers on the ground, no bubble gum stuck to the trees, no shampoo in the water…" he said the last at the group of girls off to the side, sitting in a line and putting their hair up. "Also, we are going to be on a river, so any cell phones, CD players, basically anything running on batteries is at risk. It is not unheard of for boats to tip, so either leave it in the truck or pack it well and pray."

At the last comment, all heads turned to the sound of a car getting closer and closer. Within a few minutes, a white moving truck had pulled up to the campsite. The door popped open, and out jumped a girl, about the same age as Eric. She had shoulder length blond hair and dazzling green eyes. As she ran toward the group, an older man climbed out the other side of the truck, and opened the back, where a third person emerged carrying a large plastic bin filled with packages. He had a strange likeness to Johnny Knoxville.

By now, the blond had almost reached their group. "Hey Eric!" She yelled, launching herself at him. After a quick hug and a peck on the check, she turned to the group.

"Hi, I'm Summer."

At the sound of his long time ex's name, Tristan instinctively turned around. "It couldn't be her, could it?" Summer had left Chilton before junior year started. Her parents had split up (quite the scandal, as his mother would say) and she'd decided to live with her father in New York. Her sudden disappearance had left Tristan feeling more pained then he did after practically any other breakup. Not because he had particularly liked her, of course, but because of the fact that she had dumped him, quite unceremoniously, in front of virtually everyone he knew.

That stunt had kept the gossip mills turning for far too long, in Tristan's' opinion. Of course, if anyone had found out what had had happened only ten minutes later…but no one ever would. That was one moment he had vowed to keep off his oh-so-public list of conquests. Not even his closest friends knew, save for Henry, who had only found out through his girlfriend, who just happened to be best friends with the girl in question. Come to think of it, that was how they had come to be friends in the first place.

After hearing the interesting tidbit, Henry had called to confirm it, and over that summer, their conversations developed from bribes and threats insuring Henry's silence to advice on how to win her over. The next year, Henry had seemed, to the masses of students at Chilton, to have miraculously become part of the "in" crowd. Of course, Tristan's friends, being more the follower type, had made little objection to the addition to their group, hardly realizing that they were being replaced.

A hand moving slowly back and forth in front of Tristan's eyes brought him back from his thoughts. He realized that he must have completely zoned out as he had been reliving all that had happened the last year.

"Hey man, I know she's hot, but you keep that up and I think you might get classified as a stalker." Jon said, grinning, as his friend finally turned back around. "Some weird coincidence, her being named Summer too. Don't find too many of those around." He continued.

So it wasn't her. Tristan wasn't sure if he was relieved or disappointed. Now that he thought about it, however, he wasn't sure why he even considered it was her in the first place. She had never liked the outdoors. Something about the bugs.


	5. Chapter 4

_Disclaimer_: As much as I wish I did, I didn't make up the majority of the characters or the show, they all belong to WB and whoever else is involved. Only Jane and the guides are my own. No infringement intended, so don't sue me.

**Colorado**

Chapter 4

Wrapping up his talk with Summer, Eric turned back to the students, who hadn't moved far, not wanting to leave the protection of the shade. Already, the sun was high, and the stretch of sand they were on was heating up like an oven.

"Well, what are you waiting for? The faster you get the tents up, the sooner you can all take a dip in the river. Each group; grab a tent, a bag of stakes, and a hammer. You can assemble it anywhere there's a flat bit of sand. We'll be unpacking the truck, so if anyone needs help, come get one of us. I'll come down in about 15 minutes to see how you all are doing. Good luck!" With that, Eric turned to follow Summer back up to where the truck was parked. Mr. Medina went with the students, but stayed only long enough to watch them stake out their spots, then went to help unload the truck.

Fifteen minutes later, true to his word, Eric returned, expecting to find nine completed, or at least partially completed tents up. What he did find made him want to laugh…that or start yelling. He couldn't quite decide which one yet.

Down by the river, Eric could just make out what looked like eight of the girls, tent kits thrown unceremoniously on the dirt, not even unpacked. The girls, seated in a circle, seemed to be attempting to put their hair up so that no dirt whatsoever would get onto it. A few inches above where they were seated, a haze had formed from the multitudes of hairsprays and products that had amazingly appeared from their designer duffle bags.

Keeping a safe distance from the deadly haze, Rory and Jane were at least attempting to construct their tent, though it wasn't going well. As Jane poured over the diagram, trying to pinpoint where they were going wrong, Rory sat next to a corner of the tents base, dejectedly whacking a stake with a pink, furry hammer.

Nearby, Paris stood over a semi-constructed tent, as Louise, Madeline, and a very put out looking Francie tried to hammer stakes into the ground. Next to them stood another tent, this one complete. Apparently, Paris had taken over both groups, appointing herself leader, and going on to direct the other three, as well as pitching in when absolutely necessary.

Finally, situated slightly apart from the other groups, there sat two tents, completely finished and rustling slightly from inside.

Several moments later, all five guys came tumbling out, dressed in varying shades of swim trunks. Well, all but Mike, who was adorned in a lime green Speedo that sent the Puffs into alternating fits of stares and giggles. It didn't take long for the guys to realize that bare feet and hot sand were not a good combination. Before anyone could stop them, the five boys dove into the sluggish river. Not long after, all five were scrambling up the awkward edge of the banks, and running back to their tents, Mikes Speedo in a painful looking thong.

However hot the sand was, the water was just as cold. Eventually, they emerged once again, this time in jeans and sneakers.

"You guys might want to put on some sunscreen before long. Bug spray wouldn't be a bad idea either." Eric shouted to the boys as they headed toward the other tents, but they shrugged off the suggestion, more important things on their minds.

"You ladies having trouble with your tent?" Tristan asked smugly, startling Rory mid-swing and causing her to lose her grip on the pink fluffy hammer. Unfortunately, this resulted in said hammer crashing into the two poles actually standing, and effectively destroying their entire tent. Rory, with a groan of frustration, grabbed a handful of sand and flung it at the mass of cloth lying before her.

"What does it look like, Tristan?" Jane said, exasperated. She was close to losing the last of her patience. "So are you going to help, or are you just here to annoy us, because we really don't have time for any of your-"

"Hey, hey, cool it." Tristan said, cutting short her tirade. "I'm helping, ok. Look, its really not that hard." And with that, he snatched the instructions from Jane, threw the pink fuzzy hammer back to Rory, and started lying out the poles on top of the tent. In less than ten minutes, Rory and Jane were cheerfully setting spikes into the last of the holes.

Once they had finished up, Tristan went to see what his friends were doing. It seemed that Francie had roped them into building the rest of the tents for them. They already had two up, with another three to go. However, Henry wasn't among the slave pool. A bit of investigation pointed him in the direction of Paris' tent, but upon approaching his target, Tristan overheard a heated discussion, or more specifically, Paris' passionate complaints about the latest issue of the school paper, with an occasional meek affirmation from Henry.

With all thoughts on escaping Paris' diatribe, Tristan didn't see the stray oar that someone had carelessly dropped in the sand. The next moment, he found himself falling rapidly into a not-so-soft looking bush. But when it was over, the landing turned out to be better then expected.

"Owww!" Rory yelped, more out of surprise then pain. She had been craving a chance to sit down and read someplace quiet all day. While looking for a place to set up camp, she had noticed a solitary, shady, spot behind a bush that seemed too good to be true. Once the tent was done, she had decided to take full advantage of her find. Apparently, though, it was too good to be true, because not ten minutes into her new book, something had come crashing through the bush and landed right on top of her. It was still there.

"I'm sorry, I guess I wasn't…" Tristan's voice died when he realized who he had landed on. "Mary, Mary, quite contrary. What are you doing all the way over here? I thought you'd be with your new best friend."

"Yeah, well, she wanted to change, so I thought I would read, and…" By now, it became painfully obvious that Tristan had landed in somewhat of an awkward position, splayed over Rory as he was. Trying to break the uncomfortable silence, Tristan struggled to his feet, and then reached down to help Rory up. Grudgingly, she accepted his hand, but as soon as she stood, her left leg crumpled under the weight, sending her crashing into Tristan. In a moment, they were both back on the ground.

"Geeze, Gilmore. You think you could have waited till we got to the tents at least?" Tristan said, trademark smirk firmly in place.

"Not now." Rory snapped. Tristan was about to reply when he noticed something new. Rory's eyes, shining in the 100° temperature, looked about ready to spill; she was so close to tears. It was taking all her willpower not to break down in front of him.

"Rory, are you all right? What's the matter?" Tristan scrambled to backtrack. She couldn't be crying over that stupid line, could she?

"I think I twisted my ankle when we, you, fell." She said quietly, a grimace marring the words.

Tristan went into emergency mode immediately. Putting aside any feelings of guilt or, whatever, he bent down and, ignoring her protests, scooped Rory into his arms, set on taking her to the truck and the first aid kit that would be there. But before he had gone two steps, a shadow fell across their path.


	6. Chapter 5

_Disclaimer_: As much as I wish I did, I didn't make up the majority of the characters or the show, they all belong to WB and whoever else is involved. Only Jane and the guides are my own. No infringement intended, so don't sue me.

**Colorado**

Chapter 5

"What the hell is going on here?" Paris screeched. Startled by the sudden outburst, Rory quickly turned to see what was going on. The unexpected shift in weight almost made Tristan lose his grip on her and, on instinct, he gripped Rory to him even tighter, a move that did not go unnoticed by Paris. "It figures! The rest of us are over there, setting up camp, and you two are here doing God knows what. I mean…"

"Paris!" Rory cut in before she could go on. "It's not what it looks like, I was just…"

"You know what? Forget it. I don't care. But you'd better wrap it up soon, because we're about to start training." And with that, Paris turned around and stormed back to camp, leaving Rory and Tristan slightly dazed.

A few moments later, Rory piped up in a soft voice, "Maybe you should put me down. It's not that far to camp, I'll be fine."

"I don't know if that's…" Tristan's argument died in his throat at the look of determination Rory gave him. Gently, he lowered her to the ground, not missing the pain that flashed across her face. Leaning on Tristan for support, the two slowly make their way back to camp, and help.

As Rory and Tristan approached the group, whispers spread like wildfire from clique to clique, and eventually, word of the two absent campers reached HQ.

"Where have you two been?" thundered Eric. It was the first day, and he had already nearly lost two students, three if you counted Paris running off in a huff. Eric was already beginning to regret this job. He never could stand these rich preppies, always with a "mightier then thou" attitude and a penchant for trouble. Now he was stuck with an entire camp of them. It was a disaster waiting to happen, and Eric was going to put a stop to it before it got any farther.

The two teens looked up to meet the flashing eyes of their guide.

"Well, we're just making friends left and right today, aren't we Mary?" Tristan whispered, glancing briefly over to Rory. She didn't acknowledge the half-grin he wore. Returning her gaze to the ground to watch for rocks, she muttered back furiously,

"This is all you're fault, you know. I was sitting there, minding my own business, and you attacked me! What, the quips were getting too boring, you had to try to actually kill me to get your jollies?"

"What is this attack business?" Tristan chuckled. "There _I_ was, taking a nice stroll in the desert, when you tripped me. I feel if anyone was victimized, it was certainly me." He finished. Tristan knew she was fuming, but she had also started walking faster, and a nice glow of anger had replaced her recent pained expression. It seemed a fair trade off in the end.

"Victim, if you're the victim here then why, pray tell, am I the one limping?" she challenged, a note of outrage in her voice.

"A small hitch in you're otherwise dastardly plan to do away with me. I see you're plan, Mary, very clever. It almost worked too. And the innocent outrage is very convincing…"

Any further retort was cut off by the sight of Eric, mouth clenched in a thin line standing only a few feet away.

"Was there something I said that suggested we encourage, or even allow, students to take off on their own? Was there some confusion, perhaps, about this being the wilderness, and there being dangers?"

"No, but-" Rory tried, but was sharply cut off.

"No? Well then, would either of you like to explain exactly what you were thinking wandering off without telling anyone?"

"But we didn't. I mean, I didn't. Well, I did, but I was only-" Rory began, unsure of what to say to diffuse the situation. Surly they hadn't been gone that long, and Paris had seen them, so why the uproar. This time, it was Tristan who cut her off.

"Look, she's hurt. We're sorry, we won't do it again, bad us, we get it, but she needs some help." Tristan said, thinly veiled sarcasm dripping from his apology. Eric looked ready to take him down a notch or two for the arrogance, but found himself suddenly pushed aside. Summer, who had been watching the exchange from the truck, had heard what Eric seemed to have decidedly ignored. Disregarding his protests, Summer approached the teens.

"What exactly happened?"

"It's her ankle, it can't take any pressure. I think it's sprained." Tristan explained.

"He fell on me." Rory finished meekly, glaring at him. Summer nodded and motioned for them to follow her to the truck. Of the three, only Summer glanced at Eric, giving him a look that meant that he would be hearing more about this later.

After a quick exam, Rory was sent back to her tent with a bandage wrapped around her foot and an ice pack it tow to change and rest a bit. It was indeed a sprain, nothing worse. Summer had proclaimed her fit to sail, claiming that the water would probably be soothing to the ankle and as there was hardly any required walking to be done on the trip, there was to reason for her to be sent home. It would, however, mean that hikes were out of the question.

The last comment had made Rory smile in spite of herself, baffling the girl bandaging her foot. No hiking through nature in the unbearable heat? No viewing of rock formations and pretty trees? It was a sacrifice she made quite willingly, though the thought of a sprained ankle as a saving grace just seemed wrong. After a mental shake to clear the thought, she walked gingerly back to her tent.

Meanwhile, with all current crisis' dealt with, Summer went in search of her wayward coworker. It didn't take long to spot Eric wandering amongst the canoes by the beach, tapping here and there on the hulls to check for unnoticed damage. He seemed preoccupied, but before she could get a word out, he turned to face her. "I know what you're going to say, so save it." He said, his voice calm, reasonable. So at least he was back to normal. Summer waited for him to continue. Letting out a deep breath in resignation, he went on. "I shouldn't have gone off on them like that. It was…unprofessional."

"And stupid. And mean. And not like you at all." Summer continued matter-of-factly. "So what's going on? I know I haven't seen you in, what's it been? Months? But you couldn't have changed this much. Spill." She commanded, sitting on one of the upturned boats. Everything about her screamed that she wasn't moving till he complied.

Eric gazed out at the river. For some time, there was only silence, marked by the lapping of the water and the distant murmur of voices. Just when Summer was about to speak, Eric began. "Remember Sarah?" Summer giggled.

"Beautiful Sarah? Amazing Sarah? Girl of your dreams Sarah? Of course. How could I forget Sarah? You wouldn't stop raving about this girl, she's all I heard about last summer." Eric grinned wryly.

"Yeah, well, last week, 'Amazing Sarah' left boring me for some loaded yuppie she met at a party." Summers smile dissolved as his words sunk in.

"I'm so sorry, I didn't know," murmured Summer, standing to envelop him in a comforting hug. The familiar touch brought a smile to Eric's face, and he returned the gesture reassuringly.

"Don't worry hun, I'll live. I'm just off a bit now, but I'll be fine. I promise." With a last squeeze, the pair separated; Summer off to gather the troops, and Eric to prepare for the long overdue canoe lesson.


	7. Chapter 6

_Disclaimer_: As much as I wish I did, I didn't make up the majority of the characters or the show, they all belong to WB and whoever else is involved. Only Jane and the guides are my own. No infringement intended, so don't sue me.

**Colorado**

Chapter 6

After leaving Rory in the capable hands of Summer, Tristan had returned to his tent, only to be stopped short by Henry, who stood blocking the entrance, a whimsical look in his eyes. "You know, you told me you fell for the girl, but I didn't think you meant literally."

"Very funny, wise guy. But how'd you hear about it anyway? It just happened" Tristan asked, his curiosity piqued.

"You kidding? Paris stormed back here ranting about you being 'at it again'. She told everyone. Then I saw you guys come back, heard what Rory said…You actually fell on her?" Henry fought to hold back a laugh, earning another glare from Tristan. Holding up his hands in mock defeat, he went on. "Seriously, though, is she okay?"

"Yeah, I think so. They said it was just a sprain. But still… God, what a way to start my vacation." He said sardonically.

"Hey, you've still got the whole trip to make it up to her. Might even try out that 'nice' thing we've been talking about. You never know, it could work."

"Yeah, yeah, I know." In the two years since Henry had become his confidant, the guy had unceasingly tried to play matchmaker, berating Tristan for his callous comments and offering advice to win her over, or at least win her friendship. Not that he had ever used any of it.

He wasn't an idiot, he knew what he was doing only drove Rory further and further away, but it wasn't that simple. All of his formative years had been spent building an image, a façade of confidence and indifference that was now fine-tuned to the point of perfection. It was his safety net and his sanity, but it was also a handicap. To betray his front would be to expose himself, to lose control. And that was something he simply couldn't do, not anymore.

Even Henry, arguably his closest friend, knew only a bits and pieces of his life and his thoughts, and most of that came from his intuitive nature, rather then Tristan's openness. To Tristan, it simply didn't seem worth the risk. Experience had taught him that nothing is ever really as good as it seems, so why put his reputation and his heart on the line for someone who would probably just disappoint him in the end? Better to keep her at arms length then chance shattering the fantasy. Better she be perfect and hate him then she be revealed as nothing special at all.

Tristan's musings were abruptly interrupted by Summer's yell of "Everyone, down to the boats!" Grinning up at Henry, the tension that had gathered in those few silent minutes was dispelled, and the two boys joined the herd of students trudging toward the water's edge.

Meanwhile, Summer made her way further up the beach to another tent, the last to show any signs of life. Inside, two voices volleyed back and forth, one by turns stern and pleading, the other steadfastly resolute.

"Rory, you heard what they said. You need to rest."

"I'm not tired."

"But you could hurt yourself even more. At least take it easy for today."

"I'm more likely to get hurt if I don't know what I'm doing. Now let me out of here, or we'll both miss the lesson."

"I can live with that." There was an edge of triumph to the voice.

"Oh really? So you trust Madeline to get you down this river safely, then? Because that's what's going to happen if we don't leave right now."

From the silence within, it seemed to Summer that this had been the winning argument. Seconds later, Rory hobbled out of the tent, followed closely by Jane, concern still etched in her face. The girls came up short when they spotted Summer watching them. Rory's face seemed to challenge her to send her back to the tent, but Summer merely glanced back towards the riverbank, where everyone else stood impatiently, paddles in hand, eager for the lesson to get underway. "Seems they're waiting on you, better get going girls."

Once everyone was assembled, the lesson got underway. Eric had apparently calmed down a bit, becoming once again the easygoing man they had all thought they met earlier that day. The tutorial itself was really quite uneventful, as a canoe is ultimately a rather simple boat to maneuver. Before long, paddling practice, which had been held on foot in the shallows of the river, became an exercise in marine warfare, as the boys discovered the superior splashing power that an ore holds over the average human hand. Targets and those caught in the crossfire alike found themselves soaked from head to foot; no one escaped the battle unscathed. And while the water was a welcome respite from the blazing heat, the river's questionable cleanliness did manage to put a damper on the moods of several dripping victims.

Eventually, Eric announced that the fundamentals appeared to have been mastered, and it was now time to break out the boats. Students were directed to pair up with their boat partners and grab a canoe. Reluctantly, Rory spotted Tristan standing by one of the alarmingly large vessels and walked delicately over to meet him.

Upon closer examination, her worst fears were confirmed. The thing looked heavy, and ungainly to boot. Lugging this thing down to the water every day was going to be hell on her ankle, but so be it. Between her failure at erecting a tent, her pitiful injury within hours of the start of her vacation, and the public tongue-lashing she had received care of Eric, her pride simply couldn't take any more abuse this early in the day. If it hurt, it hurt, but to ask for special treatment after flatly refusing to rest and recover would dispel that shadow of dignity that Rory was simply not ready to release yet.

"Well, come on. We've got to get this thing down to the water, right?" Rory stated, attempting an air of indifferent confidence and failing miserably.

"Sure you've got it Ma-?" a pointed look from Rory cut off any debate. With a shrug, Tristan bent down, getting a firm grip on the boat. "Your leg, after all…" another glare and they had shouldered the tin monstrosity. It was lighter than it had looked, but not by much. Even with Tristan taking the brunt of the weight (an action she would have scolded him for if it wasn't such a crucial relief) the mass still weighed her down more than she would have liked. Every step they took sent a sharp pain through her leg, which threatened to give out once again.

Just as the load became too much, however, a hand appeared beside her own, lifting the weight of the boat off of her frame and easing the strain from her sorely aching ankle.


	8. Chapter 7

_Disclaimer_: As much as I wish I did, I didn't make up the majority of the characters or the show, they all belong to WB and whoever else is involved. Only Jane and the guides are my own. No infringement intended, so don't sue me.

A/N:Thank you so much for everyone who reviewed! It really does keep me going. (nagging great motivator, so please keep it up) I know the updates are taking a while, and I realize it's a lame excuse, but senior year really is insane. Never, I repeat, never load up on AP's and then expect to have a life, because it just doesn't work that way. But anyway, enough of my babbling, on with the story!

A/N#2: I'm moving the rating up to PG-13, just because I don't want to slip and offend anyone with a little language, but don't worry it's nothing major at all. But just so you're aware... I don't see this fic ever going higher then that in the future, though. Ok, thats all. You can get to the story now. I promise :)

**Colorado**

Chapter 7

Startled, Rory stepped back, leaving the figure to quickly balance the added burden. While he scrambled to do so, Rory caught sight of his face and gasped in surprise. When aid had unexpectedly arrived, she had assumed instinctively that Henry had once again turned up to lend a hand; his timing had been impeccable as of late.

However, the hand that had replaced hers against the tarnished hull of the canoe had been tan, bronzed by the sun and noting like Henry's naturally lighter skin. She had also overlooked the obvious strength of whoever had lifted the load, a strength evidenced by the sinewy muscles of his arms - now clearly displayed as he adjusted his hold on the boat a final time.

No, it was certainly not Henry. Still, the truth of her savior dealt Rory a humbling shock.

Before her stood Eric, the same Eric who, not twenty minutes prior, had seemed quite prepared to toss her on a homeward-bound bus without a second thought. Not to mention what he had appeared to have in mind for Tristan. Though she had to admit, she didn't begrudge him that particular thought - Tristan did seem to have knack for evoking just such a reaction.

Still, to come to her rescue…

Yet here he was, boat in tow, staring at her with an intriguing mix of concern, incredulity, and of all things, guilt? 'Wonderful Gilmore, can't walk, won't rest, and now you're seeing things too…' she thought to herself, only interrupting the silent criticism when she realized that no one around her had yet moved. Finally, she looked up to meet Eric's gaze.

"What do you think you're doing? Summer said she told you to rest, and last I checked heavy lifting does not fall under the category of restful activities. Damn, and I thought you prep school kids were supposed to be bright."

Under normal circumstances a timely retort would have been in order, but this was just too strange. This couldn't be the same hard-nosed loose cannon of a man she had encountered earlier, could it? This man holding back a smile without a hint of malice to be found? Well, if Dr. Jekyll had returned, no reason to tempt Mr. Hyde out of hiding.

"Yeah, well, I guess GPA's don't always translate into common sense." She responded, eliciting a chuckle from Eric, though no sound came from the far end of the boat. In fact, it had just occurred to Rory that Tristan had been eerily quiet for some time now. It didn't take long to realize why.

While Rory had been holding the boat, Tristan had managed to position himself so as to take most of the weight off of her, which was fine for the time being. But when Eric, who stood a full head taller than Tristan, had moved into her place, it put Tristan at a rather distinct disadvantage. Eric was holding the boat firmly in place, stern coming down hard on Tristan, and under such a steel grip the smaller boy couldn't seem to find to find any more comfortable position for himself.

So, unwilling to drop his end, he had valiantly, or vainly, clung on, completely oblivious to all around him. If she didn't know any better, Rory could have sworn that Eric had done it on purpose. But it was probably just in her mind.

Biting her tongue to hold back the million barbs that came to her upon such a site, Rory merely noted that everyone else was in the water, prompting the boys into action once again. Still, as they covered the short distance left between them and the water's edge, Rory had the strangest sensation of two pairs of eyes following her every move, though every time she snuck a covert glance behind her, all she was met with was the tops of two sweat-slicked faces, eyes trained pointedly at the ground or the river ahead.

Finally, the canoe was lowered into the waiting water. Tristan waded through the shallows to climb into the back, and Eric offered a hand to Rory, assisting into the nearer end of the boat. While she settled herself, Eric leaned close, as though inspecting the boat one last time. In a low voice, meant for her ears alone, he murmured, "Sorry about before. That wasn't like me. It's just been a rough week, but I shouldn't have taken it out on you."

"O…it's fine…no harm done, so…are you okay?" Rory stammered, unsure of what to say. The sincerity of the apology had thrown her, and his close proximity to her, leaning over her, was not helping matters.

"Oh yeah, well no, but it's nothing for you to worry about. Just life, I guess." He responded, his mouth relaxing into a gentle smile. The smile seemed to soften his features, taking away years and hard edges that had materialized in Rory's imagination since the confrontation earlier. Now, she realized, was the first time she had even really looked at his face without the distorted lens of pain and confusion. And the face before her, the man before her, was meeting her appraising eye stare for stare.

Breaking eye contact, Rory turned away, mumbling something about the heat as color rose to her cheeks. When she turned back, Eric had left; summoned by Summer to board his own boat and get the lesson under way already.

"Well, seems you can take the girl out of the classroom, but you can never quite get rid of that teacher's pet inside, huh Mary?" Tristan's smirk became a sputter as a sheet of water landed directly in his face. Looking up incredulously, Tristan shook his head at the image of Rory, paddle held dripping triumphantly in her hand, a smirk of her own playing at the corner of her mouth.

"Oh, that's it. You asked for it. Cripple or no, you're going down." Before she could react, Rory found herself on the receiving end of a rather large splash herself. Gratefully, she returned the attack, glad to have a distraction for the moment. Eric's apology, and the look they had shared after, had thrown Rory for a loop. What did it mean, if anything? And why had she blushed? They were all good questions, she knew, but all the same, they were questions that she didn't want to deal with just yet.

And so instead, she lost herself in a battle of wits and splashes with Tristan. It didn't take long for several poorly aimed shots to drag other boats into the fray, and soon an all out war was on; boat against boat, friend against friend.

From the shore, where they had retreated at the outbreak of the fiasco, Eric and Summer lounged in the sand, watching the canoes maneuver more or less competently between each other and away in hasty retreat.

"You know, they seem to catch on quick." Summer commented. "I think they'll be just…fine?" Both leaders flinched as an overly exuberant boy reached too far out with a paddle and promptly capsized his boat, depositing his fellow sailor, one of the hair-sprayed hussies, into the murky water below.

Seconds later she surfaced, a look of disgust clinging to her face, and Eric and Summer abandoned their cozy observation spot to deal with the new dilemma.


	9. Chapter 8

_Disclaimer_: As much as I wish I did, I didn't make up the majority of the characters or the show, they all belong to WB and whoever else is involved. Only Jane and the guides are my own. No infringement intended, so don't sue me.

**Colorado**

Chapter 8

Their time out on the water seemed to have raised the spirits of the group. Everyone, with the possible exception of the unfortunate victim of the capsizing incident, had returned to the shore smiling and laughing over one another's incurable ineptitude with an oar. However, the revelry had to be momentarily paused when a cold chill swept the group, reminding them all that it was now late in the day and the heat was soon to fade entirely. Even now, the sun dipped low to the horizon, and the earlier glare of the campsite had faded to a dusky orange. Without being told, girls and boys alike retreated to their tents to change into drier, warmer clothes.

When Rory finally reached her tent, she found Jane inside, digging through an overstuffed duffel bag, before she emerged victoriously with a warm looking, worn in coat of deep blue hues.

"Hey" Rory greeted, startling the other girl out clothing hunt.

"Oh, hey, didn't hear you come in," She ignored Rory's dubious look, and continued, sympathy battling with mirth for her emotions, "So, how's life aboard RMS DuGrey?"

"Not too bad, actually. A little wet," she laughed, picking with mock distain at the clothes now plastered flush to her body, "but otherwise, fine. How was your time with Madeline?" Rory shot back, ignoring Jane's questioning stare.

"It was, like, totally super!" Jane slipped into her airhead impression without blinking an eye, eliciting poorly suppressed giggles from Rory. "But seriously," she went on, resuming her normal tone, "since when did you warm up to the 'king of the jerks'? I mean, he broke your ankle, -"

"Sprained", Rory interjected meekly.

"Regardless, from what I've seen before, this guy has never done anything but make your life a living hell, now he puts you out of commission, and then he soaks you – I just don't see why you're so nice to him. Honestly, no one would blame you for trying to switch partners after what happened…"

"Nah, with my luck lately, I'd end up with someone worse." Jane arched an eyebrow, unbelieving. "Personally, I would rather trade jabs with Tristan for a week then talk makeup and gossip, and you know that's what would happen if I switched partners." The other girl shrugged, conceding. "Besides, he may be a jerk, but the ankle thing was an accident, and the water fight was partially my fault, I needed something fun to take my mind off things…"

"Ah, you needed to get your mind off things, huh? We're on vacation, or supposed to be, so what kind of things are so thought consuming that you had to start a fight that got me dripping wet?" One look told her that Jane already had an answer in mind, but that didn't stop her from trying desperately to backtrack.

"I didn't mean…well, I was just…my ankle hurt?" She ended lamely.

"So it couldn't possibly have anything to do with that run in you had with our handsome specimen of a leader then?" Jane's innocent countenance dissolved into smugness under Rory's sharp glare. "Madeline thought it was dreamy when he whispered sweet nothings in your ear…" she went on, twirling a stray bit of hair around her finger in a dead on impression of the ditzy brunette.

"He did not!" Rory replied hotly, her face turning a flattering shade of pink. Jane held up her hands in surrender.

"I believe you. So what really happened then?"

"He was just apologizing, for earlier, for overreacting." Jane nodded, looking distracted. After a moment, she spoke again. "I'm sure that's all that happened, but I'm telling you, just so you know, that that's not what it looked like, and I'm sure we weren't the only people to notice. For one, you might have missed this, but Tristan was shooting daggers the entire time the two of you were talking."

Rory took in this information, and then responded dryly, "Tristan's a jerk, what do I care."

"Well, a minute ago, he was fine" Jane reminded her.

"Uh huh." Rory mumbled, no longer listening. It was clear she was lost in thought. Jane waited until the moment seemed right, then though out the question she was dying to ask.

"Are you sure you don't like him?"

"Him who?" Rory let out wearily.

"You tell me."

With a sigh, she shook her head. "I don't know. I honestly don't." There was nothing else to say. Outside, the sun had nearly disappeared, leaving the air brisk and cool in its absence. Rory quickly changed into a dry pair of jeans and a warm gray sweater, and the two girls left the tent, both silent, thinking.

A ways inland, comfortably secluded from the tents, one of the men Rory had noticed in the van earlier was feeding a roaring campfire, while the other was tending to two grills that billowed smoke and smelt of hot dogs and hamburgers. Next to him, Summer could be seen shredding lettuce and cutting cucumbers for a large salad. The smells of food cooking awakened a hunger in the girls they hadn't realized they'd had, and quickly joined the line of people waiting for their share.

Dinner seemed to fly by. The day's exertions had put even the most health – conscious in the mood to binge, and for the first ten minutes there was little sound above the munching of food and reloading of plates. Eventually, hungers were sated and the students fell into an easy banter among themselves. The announcement of a star gazing expedition that night had some excited, though several opted to catch up on their sleep instead.

"So, what do you say Mary? Up for a midnight run? Just us, and the stars on a quiet river…" Tristan asked suggestively, earning himself a glare from both Rory and Jane.

"Yeah, alone, with the rest of the group all around - you Romeo you!" Henry butted in jokingly.

"You're one to talk, staying back here to, what was it? Catch up on your beauty rest?" Tristan shot back with a laugh.

"Well, a guys got to look good for his adoring public…whoa!" Dazed, Henry found himself sprawled in the sand, Jon having snuck up behind him and overturning the beach chair he had claimed as his own from the back of the van. As the two tussled around good-naturedly, Tristan turned back to Rory.

"Well, are you in our out Mar? I mean, unless you're too tired…" Rory shot him a withering look. She knew he was just trying to get a rise out of her, but the truth was, the stargazing sounded fun. Even if she was getting tired, the idea of passing up that opportunity just to get an extra hour of sleep sounded ludicrous.

Rolling her eyes, Rory finally acquiesced. "Besides," she added, "I couldn't send you out there alone. God knows what kind of trouble you'd get yourself into."


	10. Chapter 9

_Disclaimer_: As much as I wish I did, I didn't make up the majority of the characters or the show, they all belong to WB and whoever else is involved. Only Jane and the guides are my own. No infringement intended, so don't sue me.

**Colorado**

Chapter 9

Before long, the last scraps of dinner were being packed away and the small band of resolute campers returned to their upturned boats. Despite her best efforts, Rory hadn't managed to convince Jane to come along. Though she claimed she needed a break from – socializing – the bags under her eyes spoke differently, and the last Rory had seen of Jane was her retreating form slinking wearily toward their tent. In a way, it was a relief. There was no way Jane would be up for another bout of girl talk that night and Rory desperately need a break from the soul searching. Just a quiet night and some star gazing, that's all she wanted. Well, that and a question-free tent to come back to. It wasn't so much to ask.

Everything started off well enough. The mornings practice had paid off, for within minutes and without incident all the boats were launched and gliding silently down the river, the murmur of oars slipping through the currents the only interruption. Every so often Eric or Summer, who shared the lead boat, would point out a constellation over head: here the bright belt of Orion, there in the distance the North Star, and just above those ridges you could see the beginnings of the big dipper.

But the group, so compact to begin with, soon spread out, having grown confidant with their abilities and bored with their leader's narrative. Conversations sprang up within the confines of the boats, hushed whispers blending into the sounds of the night's breeze through the reeds that lined the riverbed until they became indistinguishable from one another. Occasionally, a sharp laugh would burst forth from the darkness, only to be stifled and disappear before the disrupter of the peace could be identified.

One boat, however, was eerily devoid of such chatter. Perched at the brow, Rory fought to stay away, while Tristan, who had taken his position in back, diligently and silently kept them on their course. It seemed odd to Rory, this newfound stoicism, and it had come at the most inopportune time. The day's events and her dire lack of caffeine intake had finally taken their toll. She had already almost dropped her paddle twice, and as it was her rowing contributions were nearly nonexistent. She had to break the monotony or she would pass out then and there. Stifling another yawn, she blurted out the one thought that had plagued her since dinner.

"I would kill for some coffee." Without looking, she could feel his attention shift to her. His reply came easily, a hint of amusement in his voice.

"Tired already Mary? And here I thought you were supposed to be tough, what with keeping me out of trouble and all..."

"And under normal circumstances, that would be true. But this is anything but normal." She slid into the banter easily; glad to return to familiar territory. The silence had been unnerving, and it had been lending far too much weight to Jane's comments from earlier. Tristan staring daggers? Tristan acting, what, jealous? Probably just upset that he had lost the spotlight for a second. "I don't think you realize what a large role coffee plays in my life." She added for good measure.

"Well, for one so, ah, devoted, I'm surprised you didn't notice the big silver dispenser filled with steaming hot coffee they had out at dinner. In fact, if memory serves, it even had a sign. You know, Mar, I think you're losing your touch."

"Oh, silly, silly boy. Of course I saw the sign. I even believed the sign. But there's a limit to how much battery acid I can take with my coffee before I cease to call it coffee. It just crossed the line."

"So, how exactly do you plan to make it the rest of the week, oh wise one. I mean, sure Starbucks is taking over the world one block at a time, but somehow I don't think they've branched out to campsites just yet." This was met with a pitiful groan, and in the dim light he could just make out the small figure in front of him slump down a bit in dejection. Head in hands, her paddle lay forgotten in the bottom of the boat. "But hey, you never know," he tried, adopting a tone of hopeful seriousness, "they build them next door to each other, so obviously there's some level of insanity in their master plan. Why not the middle of nowhere too? Say just over there, behind those…uh…Rory?"

The shift in tone was enough to break through the haze of sleep that had encircled her. Glancing back questioningly, Rory was met with a look equal parts sheepish embarrassment and genuine puzzlement.

"Tristan? What is it?"

"Where the hell are we?" The words were quiet, but rang clear in the sudden silence. For the first time, in dawned on them both that the hum of the others had long since died away, and the only creaking boat to be heard was their own. What's more, the river around them had shrunk to no more then a finger of water, overgrown with thick reeds – reeds that had finally drawn attention to themselves by catching hold of Tristan's paddle in a stubbornly vice-like grip.

It was clear to both teens that somewhere along the line they had strayed from main path. The river's edge was littered with little inlets and tributaries, but most were too small or overgrown to venture into. A select few, however, were not so forbidding – at least, not at first. This one, for instance, had turned rather inhospitable all at once. Several test prods of Rory's paddle revealed that the tangled oar was the least of their problems. Somehow, in the confusion of the dark, the boat itself had become lodged in the mud and reeds of the bank.

"Hello! Anyone? Help!" Rory's plaintive cries echoed across the still waters, but to no avail. No answering calls could be heard and nothing beyond their copse of reeds gave any indication of help on the way.

Suddenly, a splash of icy river water hit Rory's back with a shock, followed shortly by a stream of rambling expletives.

"What do you think you're doing?" she shot out, as Tristan surfaced next to her spitting profusely.

"I thought it was a nice night for a dip," he retorted dryly, "what do you think? We're stuck and there's no way I'm spending the night on this boat. But the damn bank was a little further then I thought."

"Spend the night? You're nuts. We aren't spending the night here. We can't." There was a touch of panic in her reply, still to faint to blunt Tristan's cutting words. He had been exhausted to start, cold since they left, and now the biting ice of the water had set him on edge.

"So you have a better idea, then? Because the way I see it, we are stuck, it is night, and we don't even have a flashlight. So unless you've got another boat or a flare gun stashed somewhere, I really don't see another way out of this." By this time, Tristan had edged his way to the nearest bank, and with once strong push, he heaved himself out of the current to sit shivering amid the reeds, waiting for Rory to reach a decision.

"But they can't just leave us here all night. I mean, they'll see we're missing; they'll come looking for us. They have to." The words came out with less conviction then she had intended, for as she uttered them it dawned on her, the truth of their situation. No one had noticed them fall behind or take the wrong turn. No one had made a list of who was even out there or who had stayed back. And the sleep-tinged enthusiasm of earlier in both campers and leaders made Rory doubt their attentiveness upon returning to camp. Even Jane, her tent mate, wouldn't notice her absence till morning, when she woke to an empty sleeping bag. No, no one was going to find them, not till daybreak at least.

Grumbling, and loath to admit her acceptance, Rory began to follow Tristan's example and prepared to make a leap for the elusive land hidden among the reeds.

"Wait." His voice was calmer then before, though not without a bit of regret. He had watched her, biting his tongue at her optimistic charge and waiting for reality to kick in, as it soon did. Now, wincing slightly, Tristan once again slipped into the water. Slowly, he moved to the prow of the boat, only his shoulders and head still visible above the murky depths. "No reason for both of us to get soaked. It's too far to jump. Here."

Using his shoulder as a step and a hand for balance, Rory managed to make it to the other side dry, followed by a once more drenched and shivering Tristan.

"So what now?" No wit, just an honest question.

"Try to get some sleep, I guess. And wait for morning."


End file.
